The Many Ages of Remus Lupin
by DragonRose42
Summary: A brief glimpse at Remus Lupin from ages 11-33. Non-specified Remus/Sirius. All characters, settings, etc. belong to J.K. Rowling.


He was 11 and apprehensive. He stood on the platform, clutching his mother's hand and staring up at the scarlet steam engine. He spoke in a whisper when teachers asked him questions. He kept his eyes pointed downwards. He allowed himself to be swept up in the enthusiasm and the energy of the boys in his dorm. He only smiled halfway. He kept his nose buried in books. He kept his secrets tucked away.

He was 12 and eager. He stood on the platform and looked around for his friends. He was first to raise his hand when teachers asked questions. He looked around with bright eyes. He laughed. He let himself be hugged. He made suggestions for mischief and mayhem. He walked around ensconced in his friends. He let his secrets out.

He was 13 and self-possessed. He stood on the platform and waited for his friends to come to him. He answered every question the teachers threw at him. He looked everyone in the eye. He smiled easily. He hugged his friends. He read, and read, and read more. He wore his tie loosened, and filched snacks from the kitchen. He plotted pranks and tricks. He let his secrets step aside.

He was 14 and awkward. He stood on the platform, a foot taller than the year before. He hunched his shoulders as he answered teachers' questions. He looked down at everyone. He laughed loudly, but briefly. He hid inside too big sweaters. He tripped on his own feet. He stood in the background. He felt his secrets rise to the surface of his being.

He was 15 and reckless. He stood on the platform with his friends at his side. He put his shoulders back. He looked teachers in the eye and lied. He read restricted books. He mapped out his world. He escaped his prison, and ran around with his friends. He smirked. He laughed loudly and often. He reveled in his secrets.

He was 16 and besotted. He stood on the platform and felt his heart speed up at the sight of his friend. He stumbled over the answers to teachers' questions. He blushed. He refused hugs. He made up excuses for hugs. He giggled. He agreed to every prank and plot. He tucked his secrets into his pocket and carried them around.

He was 17 and nostalgic. He stood on the platform and tried not to cry. He answered the questions of first years. He smiled at his friends' antics. He read everything he couldn't find at home. He finished his map and lost it. He lay in the sun, and stared at the stars. He made promises to friends. He hugged often and long. He tried to squash his secrets down.

He was 18 and bitter. He stood in the office, in the library, in the store, in the lobby, and got rejected. He looked down at the dirt and the muck. He read anything that was free. He forced smiles. He stopped laughing. He went hungry. He avoided his friends. He felt trapped in his secrets.

He was 19 and in love. He stood in his new flat and kissed his boyfriend. He made tea. He read everything his friends bought him. He hugged, and snuggled, and breathed. He explored his lover. He beamed. He talked about the future. He joked. He had no secrets.

He was 20 and suspicious. He stood in his flat and felt trapped. He stared at pages and couldn't read them. He avoided eye contact. He hid in the bathroom and cried. He stopped laughing. He stood outside slammed doors and tried to breathe. He spoke only when spoken to. He had no secrets, and no one believed him.

He was 21 and shattered. He stood in his flat and listened to the news with an already breaking heart. He ripped covers off his books. He threw out his ex's clothes. He burned photos. He avoided everyone he knew. He stared into the eyes of dead people. He tried to stop breathing. He never laughed. He rarely spoke. He tucked himself away. He yearned to have secrets to hide in once again.

He was 33 and broken. He stood on the platform and stared at the scarlet engine and felt his heart beat. He stared into eyes he had not seen in twelve years. He asked questions and pretended to know what he was doing. He smiled as often as possible. He ignored the memories and breathed. He swallowed his potion and lay dormant. He read and shared what he had read. He felt his secrets slip back around him as easily as an old friend.


End file.
